Storm
by PlummyPlums
Summary: When one gets struck by lightning, it's likely to do more than just give a little jolt. Aka, if the episode "Snotlout's Angels" had been more realistic.


It was when Astrid stormed out of the hut that Snotlout realized he had made a terrible mistake. Hiccup and the twins hurried inside, obviously worried but also probably disappointed. He ended up telling them what he had said to her; Hiccup gave a sympathetic look, seemingly knowing what Snotlout had already suspected. He was going to die. "Okay, this could be a problem."

He could hear the angry viking grumbling outside, along with the sharp clang of weapons. His anxiety starting to rise, Snotlout tried to keep his cracking voice in check. "Uh, okay, what is she doing?"

Hiccup turned to him, and Snotlout realized that his concern wasn't for his safety, but for Astrid's sanity. (Of _course_ his stupid older cousin would care more for his _girlfriend_ than his own kin.) "She's searching for something. Most likely a bludgeon." A pause. "All right, here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna get on your dragon, and fly out of here immediately."

Trying to preserve his reputation, Snotlout scoffed. "Yeah, right. I'm not afraid of her." He nearly cringed when he heard his own uncomfortable laugh. The twins jumped in, clearly still not over his statement, but he didn't feel like paying attention to them.

"You should go. Now. It's literally the only chance you have."

He heard his soon-to-be-murderer yell with rage from the outside, and he knew he was out of time. Astrid was gonna kill him if he didn't get far away from the Edge ASAP. In a moment of panic, he scrambled to Hookfang, taking off into the night; he could still hear her yelling about him, even as he got further and further from the island. It'd probably be best if he stayed a fair distance from the Edge for at least a day...maybe a week. As long as it'd take for her to calm down. As he escaped, his fear turned to irritation.

"Okay. I cannot believe this is happening. Can you? I mean, seriously! She needs to stop being so sensitive!"

He didn't really believe a word he said. Of course this happened, it was going to eventually. With as impulsive as he was, there was no way he could go too long without slipping up. Gods, would he ever learn to _think_ before he did things? He always got into situations like this by being impulsive. He did stupid things that he would've known not to do if he used his head for just a second. Hindsight was 20/20, and he always found himself looking back on his decisions with a lens of self-hatred. Most of his problems were his own fault, if he were to be honest with himself. His dad had always told him that his stupidity would get him into trouble, and he was right - he was always right.

On top of all of his emotional turmoil, it had started to rain. Snotlout hadn't noticed when he'd first left, but the night sky was filled with dark clouds, which had suddenly decided that it was time to let loose. This was no light sprinkle either; it was as though the sky hated him as much as he did. The rain was hard and cold, hurting his eyes - he could even hear thunder not far away, and lightning soon followed it. The Gods just couldn't give him a break, could they? He scowled as the arcs of crackling heat came dangerously close to Hookfang. He was not in the mood for nature to be attacking him. He'd only just escaped an attack at home!

"Great! Wow! Perfect! That's right! Punish me, Thor! Bring everything you got! I can take it! The Snot can take-"

He was cut off by a loud clap of thunder as his body was flooded with horrible, white-hot pain.

* * *

Hookfang's heart dropped when he heard his rider scream. Snotlout screamed all the time (he was scared of many things, like a hatchling), but this was different This wasn't a scream of fear, but of _agonising pain_. He could hear it loud and clear, even among the harsh cry of the wind and the booms of thunder around them. His panic only increased when, moments later, the comforting weight on his neck was gone.

Taking a glance behind him, Hookfang roared in terror when his suspicions were confirmed; Snotlout had fallen from his back, landing somewhere in the raging sea below. Taking a split second to be grateful for the fact that lit Monstrous Nightmare gel couldn't be put out by water, Hookfang flamed up and frantically searched the ocean's surface. He didn't dare screech, lest he miss a sound from his downed rider, but he couldn't hold in his concerned whimpers. Panicking, the Nightmare dunked his head into the turbulent waters, not even caring about the sting of saltwater in his eyes. Snotlout's survival mattered much more than temporary pain.

Getting a glimpse of pale skin in the darkness below him, Hookfang surged forward, wings straining against the water. The moment it took for him to reach his rider felt like an hour. Grabbing Snotlout as carefully as he could with his sharp-toothed jaws, Hookfang pushed himself back to the surface, silently cursing himself for letting the boy put them in this situation. He couldn't see the condition of his rider while he was held in his teeth, but the dragon knew that his friend wasn't fit to be thrown back to his saddle or to Hookfang's claws. He'd have to wait until he was somewhere he could put him down. From what he could tell, however, he wasn't going to like what he saw. The acrid stench of burnt flesh was unmistakable, and the boy he held made no sound other than ragged, uneven breathing.

For the first time in a long time, Hookfang was afraid.


End file.
